In my mind, I'm five years old having a high old time wandering and wondering. In reality, I'm now approaching my late 60s, wowza! I tell you a lot of creativity is still to be found in this old young self. In you, too, whatever your age. Welcome to my barefoot world!
1. The Husband and I successfully fulfilled our monthly date for vacuuming, dusting, and mopping the house. Three months in a row. Definitely a whoop-de-doo! for us. The carpet feels so good beneath our bare feet. 2. Here's another thing I'm proud about doing today. I successfully pulled a curly dock weed, more than 60 inches tall, from the middle of a young butterfly bush. Poor guy. The two plants' roots were stuck together, but not entwined, so I was able to pry them apart. Hopefully the young butterfly bush was not too traumatized. 3. I need to go out and check the seeds I planted last week. They may need a drink of water. 4. But, first I need to go cook our main meal for us. I do miss not cooking. 5. Here I am again. The seeds got their sips of water. I saw two sunflower sprouts. Yippieeee. 6. After marinating locally produced grass-fed beef stew in a concoction of spices, vinegar, oil, and whatever else for a few hours, I sliced the meat thinly a
I felt like an old lady as I climbed the stairs a few hours ago. Old lady, pooped, that is, because of my busy morning playing in the yard, starting with a new plant called Kangaroo Paw. Don't you just love that name, Kangaroo Paw? The Husband and I bought it yesterday, along with Jupiter's Beard, Sedum Album, and Wonga-Wonga Vine. Don't those names simply appeal to your silliness? Jupiter's Beard. Kangaroo Paw. Sedum Album. Wonga-Wonga Vine. They ought to be featured in a poem or song. Anyone want to try? I'm being distracted by what's coming out of the Husband's computer: the King Earl Boogie Band performing "... I've got my Plastic Jesus riding on the dashboard of my car..." The Mama kept a plastic Jesus-on-the cross on Eliza Do-alot's dashboard, which we think still rests in Eliza's glove compartment. Drats. Where was I? We're supposed to have a few more days of rain, starting tomorrow, which is why I spent the mo
Today I'm playing hooky. Yes, I'm retired, but even retired people need to play hooky from everyday routines. For me that has meant, so far, sleeping in until 10 a.m. (I don't recall the last time I did that when I wasn't sick.) and watching TV while I ate my breakfast of black coffee and Brie slapped between two slices of sourdough bread. The Husband eventually moseyed over to the living room with his second cup of coffee and plopped on the couch. He was content with me clicking the remote. We ended up watching Kitty Lynne Klich paint her interpretation of a photograph of an Italian scene. I thought it fascinating how she mixed colors and applied light and dark hues to get what she wanted. At some point of watching Kitty, Molly the Cat sashayed by. She looked perplexed. Why were we sitting in the living room in the morning? Why is the TV on? Why is Missus Lady sitting in Hero Man's seat and Hero Man is hers? Is that Brie I smell on your breath Missus Lady
Life is good. Yesterday my retirement check got deposited and our health insurance and car insurance premiums got paid. Today we went to Costco and splurged on beer, potato chips, pesto sauce, potstickers, toilet paper, and Brita filters. Oh my goodness, we even bought a carpet runner for the hallway. Am I being sarcastic? Facetious? I don't know anymore. The Husband and I are now in the category of retired seniors on limited income, so buying groceries at Costco today felt like a luxury. Going home, I found myself justifying the purchases by figuring how much we saved by buying in bulk. Going through life with the responsible happy-a-go-lucky Husband makes living less scary. I truly believe him when I ask him to tell me "Everything will be all right." The Husband thinks that people ought to eat well because it helps maintain good health. Why should we deprive ourselves of good health, regardless of our income, right? Yup. Life is good. At the moment the Husb
My Alphabe Thursday theme: Places I've Been The Husband and I drove over to the coast this afternoon to buy food for Molly the Cat. It was something neither of us wanted to do, but Molly ate her last can of food this morning. Yes, we have a very particular cat. She would rather go hungry then eat something that doesn't taste or smell good to her. But, Molly the Cat is not the story today. The clouds are the story. They were swimming, running, tumbling, dancing, and singing across the perfect blue sky. You see, it rained last night. Hallelujah! It rained throughout the night. Whooo-hooo! And it rained some this morning. Yippee! All that wonderful rain left us with clear blue skies and whipped-cream like clouds. And, because the Husband was driving, I took photos. I was good at first, sitting primly (I heard that snort of a laugh) in my seat shooting photos through the passenger window and the windshield. Before I knew it, I was leaning out the window.
Molly the Cat is about to run out of food. That means we need to drive over to the coast today. Yay! It'll be a bit cooler. We've had two days of 100+ temperatures. Today is supposed to be the same. The weather guys say we may have a thunderstorm this weekend, possibly without the rain. Since we're over there, we'll also go on a quest for grass-fed beef liver for the Mama. Her doctor has been monitoring her blood count for the last few months. Yesterday, he finally got worried and has referred her to a blood specialist, which got Mama wanting to eat liver. She's willing to eat beef liver from any market. Not anymore for me. If we have time, I would like to stop at a Goodwill or another thrift shop to check out old, funky jewelry. I haven't found the beads I want for my county-fair bracelet entry. What kind of beads, the Husband asks? I shall know when I see them. Off we go!
Recently, Birgit of BB Creations honored me with the Inspiring Blog Award. Thank you, Birgit, I appreciate it very much. The award came with a request that I write about three things that have inspired me this past few weeks. As usual, I started by pulling out the dictionary. Inspire -- To rouse/motivate/encourage/influence/incite someone to do or feel something. In particular, to do some kind of creative thing. Highly incited to clean the bedroom Being bit two nights in a row, and having those bug bites swell and itch to no end, inspired me to find the source and do something about it. Poor Molly the Cat was brushed and combed several times throughout the day. Then I decided to look under our bed since I was being bit on my feet. Horror! Carpet beetles were feasting on a blanket that once belonged to the Husband's parents, which we had tucked under the bed last summer. Out came the vacuum cleaner again! I got down on my stomach and back to vacuum and ended up with a
I had completed a post for today several days ago. It featured a photo that I hooked up to a photo meme. Then I decided to hook up a photo on my other blog -- Take 25 to Hollister -- to the same meme. So, off came the finished post for this blog. You'll see it later this week. Certainly, I could've posted both, but I didn't want to think about how to handle my visits to bloggers participating in the meme. Should I comment under one blog or both? If done individually, which blogs should I visit as The View from the Top of the Ladder and as Take 25 to Hollister . I just make things more complicated than they need be. Seeking Oompah My goal for 2015 is finding my creative groove again. That is why I'm rambling on the blog today rather than seeing if there are any Modern Family reruns on TV. Posting on my blogs daily is part of the plan to finding my creative groove, mojo, hoodoo, voodoo, fancy, desire, and plain old oompah. Of course, once I do my thing for toda
Molly the Cat's and my pre-breakfast routine is to fill the bird feeder in the front yard. We do that for the Mama, who worries that the wild birds can't find anything to eat, especially in the winter. I think Molly likes this routine as much as I do. It feels great breathing in the crisp, cool air while the early morning sunlight bathes our bodies. I'm usually the second one up in the household. Every so often, I'm the first. Molly is no where to be seen until I've opened the kitchen curtains. Voila! The sleepy-eyed cat is sitting before me. Yawning. And, as I take a step towards her, she stretches in all her glory. "Shall we go outside?" I ask, turning the locks to the front door. Molly pads over. When I open the screen door, she rushes out to the sound of birds flapping out of the yard. Not to worry, Molly's meow is worse than her bite. She likes to watch birds and occasionally chase them. But, that's it. She caught a bird once, and ha